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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23620438">baby it's you</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazyfish/pseuds/lazyfish'>lazyfish</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - 1970s, Alternate Universe - Historical, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 17:21:30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,516</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23620438</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazyfish/pseuds/lazyfish</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Fitz owns a record shop, Hunter is a rock star; they collide.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Leo Fitz/Lance Hunter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>baby it's you</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_ufo_party/gifts">a_ufo_party</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There’s always music playing in Fitz’s little record store. Of course there’s going to be music - it’s a record store - but he prides himself in his ability to keep the music going no matter what. He never forgets to flip to the B side, even when it’s the busiest day of the year.</p><p>Today is not the busiest day of the year, so of course the music’s still playing over the <em>whir-chirp!</em> of the air conditioning when Lance Hunter walks through the door.</p><p>Fitz would recognize him anywhere. He’s maybe the most famous rockstar of the decade, even if the decade is still rather young. What Fitz wants to know is why <em>Lance Hunter</em> is in his store. His mother would kill him for his lack of hospitality, though, so Fitz simply props himself back up to standing (it doesn’t do to have your elbows resting on the counter when you’re in the presence of veritable royalty) and smiles in a way he hopes is winning. He still hasn’t quite learned the tricks to being a charismatic storekeeper.</p><p>“Afternoon,” Fitz greets. “Can I help you with anything?”</p><p>“I don’t know, love.” Hunter sidles over to the counter, peeling off his leather jacket as he does so. It reveals a white wife beater and arms that are too toned to be real, and Fitz swallows hard. “Can you?” Hunter winks then, and FItz’s mouth goes try. He’s heard rockstars have a reputation for flirting, but as far as he knows, Lance Hunter is a lady’s man. <em>Everyone</em> is supposed to be a lady’s man, but Hunter is staring at Fitz like he’d like to eat him up. And with a face like that, Fitz would let him.</p><p>“Are you looking for anything in particular?” Fitz says, valiantly attempting to ignore the maybe-flirting.</p><p>“Just something fun to do.” Hunter throws his jacket over the cash register like it’s a coat rack, and Fitz blinks at him. “Know anything good around here?”</p><p>Fitz lifts his shoulders into a shrug. “Depends on what you like to do.” As far as he’s concerned, his record store is the only tolerable place in this town. He’s not going to say so, though, considering he counts on the townsfolk to buy his records and keep him in business. It’s not a glamorous life, to be a small-town record store owner, but it’s a good one. He sets his own hours and pays himself a decent bit and, most of all, is surrounded by music.</p><p>He still doesn’t know why Lance Hunter is here.</p><p>“I think you’ll find that I like to do a number of things,” Hunter says, batting his eyelashes. Fitz looks down at his hands.</p><p>“There’s an arcade up the road. An ice cream shop. Uh…”</p><p>“And what about you?”</p><p>“I…” </p><p>Fitz doesn’t know what to say.</p><p>---</p><p>Two weeks later Hunter is in his shop again, just like he has been every day. He still doesn’t have an explanation for why he’s in a small town, but Fitz has stopped asking. There are other, better things to ask Hunter about, and the more time he spends with the other man the easier it is to talk. Hunter laughs more than anyone Fitz has ever known, but unlike everyone else, Fitz never feels like he’s being laughed <em>at</em>. Hunter will laugh at music or at jokes but never at Fitz’s stutter or how long it takes him to speak, sometimes.</p><p>“Close down the shop,” Hunter declares as he strolls through the aisles. No one else is there - Saturdays are for the beach, not for record shops - so Fitz doesn’t immediately dismiss the idea as crazy, except…</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>“Why not?” Hunter cocks his head, dimples appearing as he grins at Fitz.</p><p>“Because -”</p><p>“You’ll lose so many customers?” Hunter interrupts, gesturing to the empty shop.</p><p><em>Because I’m afraid of what I’ll do when I’m alone with you</em>, Fitz thinks. But he smiles at Hunter and flips the sign on the front door.</p><p>“You’re used to getting what you want,” Fitz comments idly when Hunter smirks at him.</p><p>“Course I am. I’m bloody charming.”</p><p>Fitz can’t disagree with him there.</p><p>“Come on. Turn the radio up.”</p><p>“It’s a <em>record</em> shop, Hunter.”</p><p>“But the radio gets louder than a gramophone.”</p><p>Once again, Fitz can’t disagree. He pulls the radio out from underneath the counter. Under other circumstances he might’ve wondered how Hunter knew it was there, but he’s come not to question the other man. He’s charming and roguish and everything and nothing like Fitz would expect from a superstar.</p><p>Fitz is still trying to figure out why Hunter finds him so interesting, though.</p><p>“Change the station,” Hunter commands when one of his songs starts playing. “If I have to hear myself sing I might be sick.”</p><p>Fitz obeys, and begins humming along when he recognizes the song playing.</p><p>“Come here.” Hunter opens his arms and Fitz stands, stunned for a moment before doing as he’s told. That’s what he always does when Hunter is around - the other man asks and Fitz is helpless.</p><p>“Fitzy, you’re a fine boy, what a good hubs you would be, but my life, my love, my lady is the sea,” Hunter sings into Fitz’s ear. He laughs at the change in words, but the song also lodges an uncomfortable heat under his breastbone.</p><p>“Shouldn’t talk like that,” he whispers even as Hunter continues swaying and humming in time with the music.</p><p>“Talk like what?”</p><p>“Like you’d ever think of marrying me.”</p><p>Hunter’s eyebrows shoot up. “I never said you’d have to be my husband.”</p><p>Shite.</p><p>“So you normally dance with boys you’re not interested in?” Fitz tries to emulate the smooth, sultry tone Hunter uses when he’s flirting, but it comes out more squeaky than anything.</p><p>“I don’t normally dance with boys at all,” Hunter says. “But I’ve made an exception.”</p><p>Fitz feels his cheeks heating. “You shouldn’t make exceptions to your rules for me.”</p><p>“Oh, but Fitz -” Hunter pulls him closer, so close Fitz can practically feel the thrum of Hunter’s heart through the other man’s rib cage “- I want to.”</p><p>---</p><p>He spends another week after the dancing incident constantly checking over his shoulder. What for, Fitz doesn’t know, but he’s constantly hot, hotter than even the summer heat can account for. His skin feels three sizes too tight, and it only gets tighter when Hunter is around.</p><p>And Hunter is always around. He’s become as much of a fixture in the store as Fitz himself, and Fitz half-wonders what it’s going to be like when summer ends and Hunter is back in New York so he can record his next big hit.</p><p>“Fitz!” Hunter calls. Fitz pops up from behind the counter. Hunter’s early today.</p><p>“There you are.” Hunter ruffles a hand through Fitz’s hair. “Say, I’ve been looking for a record all week and it’s definitely not on the shelves. Reckon it’s in the storeroom?”</p><p>“Probably not,” Fitz says, face twisting into a frown. He doesn’t like disappointing Hunter, especially not when it comes to music. “But it’s worth taking a look.”</p><p>He ducks towards the storeroom - which is more of a closet than a room, but <em>room</em> sounds so much more official - and Hunter follows. </p><p>The door shuts behind them, and Fitz finds himself pressed against it a moment later.</p><p>“Tell me,” Hunter says, eyes shadowed beneath the light of the single bare bulb in the closet. “Do you want me to kiss you?”</p><p>“I - uh - wha - yes?” Fitz stumbles. </p><p>“You don’t sound sure.” Hunter bends his head forward and tilts it to the side. “I want you to be sure.”</p><p>“I - didn’t know you felt that way about me,” Fitz manages.</p><p>“Christ, love, was the dancing and constant staring not enough of an indication?” Hunter sighs and the warmth of his breath washes over Fitz’s face. “I can’t be much more obvious without being scandalous, you know.”</p><p>“I - you -” Fitz decides then he’s done with trying to explain himself. He lifts his chin up, his lips brushing against Hunter’s. Hunter leans into the kiss, his lips unbelievably soft. Fitz’s shoulders flatten against the wood of the storeroom door and he sighs into Hunter’s mouth.</p><p>“God, you’re beautiful,” Hunter murmurs. “I knew it’d be you from the moment I saw you, you know that?”</p><p>Fitz squeaks.</p><p>“You’re really not good at declarations of love, are you?” Hunter asks, smile teasing. “Or is that just with boys?”</p><p>“Just with pretty boys,” Fitz whispers.</p><p>“Ah, so you do have a little flirtation left in you,” Hunter laughs. “I was beginning to think I’d have to leave without ever hearing you say something pretty to me.”</p><p>“Don’t leave,” Fitz says, reaching a hand up to wrap around the back of Hunter’s neck.</p><p>“I’m not planning on it.” Hunter kisses Fitz again, soft and slow. “I’ve been looking for a reason to stay, and I found it.”</p><p>
Fitz blinks, and Hunter sighs, rolling his eyes. “Baby, it’s you.”</p><p>He laughs again, and Fitz laughs too - and then keeps kissing his new beau in the store room, record shop be damned.</p>
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